


Terminator

by unbirthdaydance



Category: SHINee
Genre: Future Fic, Horror, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 01:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbirthdaydance/pseuds/unbirthdaydance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Kibum sighs, standing up. "There's no such thing as monsters."</i> A story of famous last words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terminator

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by #7 and #3 on [ this list](http://www.buzzfeed.com/daves4/12-absolutely-terrifying-two-sentence-horror-stories).
> 
> Warnings are at the bottom if you need them. I don't want to spoil anything by giving them in advance.
> 
> Title and lyrics at the beginning taken from SHINee's song _Evil_.

**Terminator**

_Evil, evil, like a criminal in my mind_   
_Evil, evil, as if the terminator came_   
_Evil, will I be able to endure this night?_   
_Evil, evil, a dream that is too cruel is born._

_This nightmare tightens around me on this dark night._   
_I can’t fall asleep…_

~~~

There once existed a K-pop band by the name of SHINee. The group, despite the hopes of fans and band members alike, did not survive forever. Our story, however, unfolds a number of years after the band’s demise.

Thus we begin on a particular dark and stormy Monday night, inside a large and isolated country home. This is not so much clichéd as it is half coincidental and half conveniently atmospheric.

We begin with the singer formerly known as Key.

~~~

**Monday**

Kibum ignores the repeated deep rumblings of thunder as he sits curled up in an armchair in the living room, deeply involved in his book. The crash of rain against the windowpanes does not faze him; it only makes the liquid pool of lamplight around his chair that much cozier.

At eight o’clock, he yawns, stretches and sighs. It’s time for his daughter to be put to bed. He isn’t looking forward to it, given that it’s likely going to be an ordeal and a half. Little Seoyeon’s _completely_ responsible other parent had slipped her a little too much candy after dinner and sent her on a sugar high of epic proportions.

And, of course, Taemin has conveniently vanished to ‘do work’ in his office, leaving Kibum to deal with their hyperactive six-year-old alone.

Kibum sets aside his book and gets to his feet. He automatically switches the lamps off as he leaves the living room, not wanting to waste electricity. The central hall is shadowy, most of the light shining out from the soft blue nightlights plugged into the walls.

A particularly loud burst of thunder shakes the house as Kibum circles the main staircase and passes Taemin’s closed office door. Kibum pays it no mind.

“Seoyeon-ah,” he says, plodding into the playroom where Seoyeon is sprawled on the floor dangling half-naked Barbies by the hair. “Bedtime!”

She groans and rolls over, pouting up at him. Kibum smiles at her. She’s gotten all his good genes, he thinks fondly, particularly his ability to contort his face into horrible expressions.

“I don’t _wanna_ ,” says Seoyeon in that particular brand of whine which universally sets all parents’ nerves on edge.

“Too bad, kiddo,” says Kibum. He bends down and scoops her up. She yelps and giggles, flailing her feet in the air. “The dragon’s caught you, little princess. Time to be hauled off to my castle!”

“The dragon’s s’posed to take her to its _cave_ , not a castle,” Seoyeon complains. Kibum hoists her over one shoulder and heads for the stairs. “Dad _dy_! It’s early!”

“On the contrary, it’s exactly one minute late,” says Kibum dryly. He pretends to pant for breath as he climbs the stairs, flicking lights on as he goes. “ _Oof_ , you’re heavy! Must be getting taller, huh?”

“Taller like you,” says Seoyeon, happily wiggling her toes.

“Yep, just like me. You don’t wanna be like your uncle Jonghyun now, do you? Still wearing four-inch insoles at thirty-two years of age...”

“He’s _old_!” yells Seoyeon with glee, right into Kibum’s ear. He winces, and not just from the volume. Jonghyun is only a year older than he is. Kibum does _not_ feel old. He refuses to.

They finally reach the top of the stairs, Kibum panting for real now. He really needs to start working out again. He deposits his daughter on the top step and gives her a little shove towards the bathroom.

“Go brush your teeth, princess,” he says. “Make sure you get _all_ of them, not just the front!”

Seoyeon sticks her tongue out and skips down the hall, humming a merry off-key tune Kibum’s never heard before. Must be something new Taemin’s composing.

Kibum himself heads to Seoyeon’s room, making sure to flick the lights on. Seoyeon’s entered the ‘terrified of the dark’ stage and _has_ to have a light on to sleep. She’ll definitely need it tonight, what with the sounds of sharp rain lashing dangerously at the windows.

Kibum hums and makes Seoyeon’s bed for her, fluffing the pillows up and folding back the sheets. Fiery lightning blazes in the crack between the curtains. Kibum circles the bed and goes to pull the curtains closed. Seoyeon doesn’t need to be woken by the spidery dance of electricity in the night sky.

“I’m baaack, Daddy!”

Kibum turns around and sighs at the sight of Seoyeon spinning about with toothpaste smeared all over her face.

“Go wash that off,” he says. “You can’t sleep with your face dirty.”

She scrunches up her nose, wiggling adorably in place. “But it’s a beard! Isn’t it neat? Would Dad like it?”

Kibum tries not to sigh again. “It is _very_ neat,” he agrees. “And I’m sure Dad would love it. But toothpaste beards aren’t for sleeping, okay? Go wash it off and come back.”

She rolls her eyes- a habit she probably learned from him, Kibum thinks guiltily- and flounces off to the bathroom once more.

Kibum wanders over to her bookcase. He bends down to the child-sized shelves and starts searching for an appropriately boring story to take the edge off his daughter's energy.

Unfortunately, Seoyeon bounds back in before he can find a suitable tale. She squeals with excited joy.

“A bedtime story! Read me a bedtime story! The one about the dinosaurs!”

There are at least fifteen books about dinosaurs on the shelf- which is totally Jonghyun’s fault- and yet Kibum knows exactly which one she’s referring to.

“All right,” he says, feigning reluctance. She knows this story by heart. It will hopefully make her tired. “You ready, kiddo?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She leaps on the bed, ignoring his rebuke about doing so, and crawls under the covers. Her eyes widen eagerly.

Kibum sits next to her and reads the story. He uses the funny voices Seoyeon adores so much. It helps that thunder growls conveniently outside, punctuating his words. Lightning flames bright from behind the curtains every so often, preluding the boom of the thunder.

Kibum supplements the sound effects with weird T-rex gestures whenever it’s that dinosaur’s part. Kibum occasionally wonders if he should be concerned that his daughter likes the most bloodthirsty, villainous dinosaur in the tale the best. Then he decides that six-year-olds are probably just weird.

Of course, when _he_ was six, his favourite tale was Rapunzel. Seoyeon must get her taste in fiction from her mother. Or possibly Taemin.

Once the story’s done, Seoyeon is yawning and finally sleepy. Kibum smiles affectionately at her. He sets the book aside on the nightstand and bends down to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

“G’night, Daddy,” she says, caught mid-yawn. Then she adds: “Can you look under the bed and see if there are monsters?”

Kibum sighs. He stands up. “There’s no such thing as monsters, kiddo.”

“Daddy, _please_.”

“All right, all right, I’m going,” he says, huffing with fake indignation. She gives a sleepy giggle. “If I get eaten by some blue thing with three eyes, it’s your fault, princess.”

“Daddy, monsters don’t have _three eyes_ ,” she says, scornful as only a child can be. “They have two, just like us. And they _hate_ the color blue.”

Kibum rolls his eyes and gets down on his knees to look under the bed, flattening his palms on the dusty ground for balance. He crouches and squints into the inky darkness, waiting for his vision to focus.

A familiar whiff of something like burnt plastic hits him. He wrinkles his nose. What _has_ his little girl been keeping under here?

Then his eyes adjust.

“Daddy,” Seoyeon whispers, staring back at him with huge eyes. “There’s someone on my bed.”

Kibum stares at the Seoyeon under the bed. His mind screeches to a halt, caught between the impulse to scream and sheer _incomprehension_.

He looks up and nearly jumps a foot in the air when he sees Seoyeon still on top of the bed. She’s perched on her hands and knees, gazing at him, just as wide-eyed as her counterpart.

“What is it, Daddy?” she asks, voice quivering. “Do you see something?”

Kibum looks under the bed and sees his daughter curled up and whimpering in the darkness. He looks on top of the bed and sees his daughter gazing down at him. Both are wearing the exact same green shark-patterned pajamas.

He must be imagining things, he thinks wildly. Of _course_ the one on top of the bed is real. Kibum’s been looking at her all along, ever since....ever since...

Ever since she came back from the bathroom.

Alone.

How long has the one under the bed been there?

“Daddy?” they both say at once.

Kibum flinches. He wants to scream _so_ badly, but he knows he can’t scare Seoyeon.

“It’s all right,” he makes himself say instead, and stands up.

The one under the bed isn’t real. She can’t be. He’s losing his mind and imagining things. He _knows_ the little girl on top of the bed is his Seoyeon. He just _does_.

“There’s nothing there,” he adds firmly. He swoops down to give the Seoyeon on top of the bed- no, the _only_ Seoyeon; the other one must be a figment of his imagination, it _must_ \- a big good-night hug. “Sleep tight, Seoyeon-ah.”

“You too, Daddy,” she says contentedly.

Kibum breaks off the hug and walks out the door and into the hall. As he closes the door, he sees Seoyeon snuggle herself down into her covers, silhouetted by a flash of lightning.

He also sees a pair of frightened eyes glowing from the darkness under the bed.

No, he doesn’t see that. He does _not_.

Kibum closes the door.

~~~

Kibum follows the rest of his nightly routine with a shaking calm. He runs the dishwasher, picks up a little in the playroom, and makes a note to call the plumber to fix a leaking faucet. Then he sits and watches TV, flipping through a sappy romance novel during the commercial breaks. There’s some new, silly ad about how to attract frogs to your backyard.

It’s normal. It’s safe. Nothing is wrong, nothing at all.

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

At midnight, he gives up trying to stay awake and heads up to bed. He quickly brushes his teeth, showers and changes into soft pajamas. Then he finds his and Taemin’s bedroom, which is dark with only a nightlight against the gloom. He flips the light on, unable to handle walking straight into such a shadowed room just now.

A deep, growling moan shivers from the direction of the bed.

Kibum jumps a foot in the air and emits a strangled scream, stifled only because he doesn’t want to wake Seoyeon up.

“Yeobo?” says the bed, covers shifting. Kibum abruptly realizes that it’s only Taemin, and feels like an idiot.

“Hey, babe,” he says back. His voice comes out much breathier and higher-pitched than he’d intended. “I didn’t realize you were in here.”

Taemin sits up, yawning. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you usually work late,” says Kibum. He enters the room and closes the door. After a moment’s hesitation, he flips off the lights again. Then he runs and practically _dives_ into the bed. He clings to his husband for comfort, nuzzling up against Taemin’s warm side.

“Whoa,” says Taemin, startled. He threads his fingers through Kibum’s hair. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Kibum just shakes his head. It’s too embarrassing to tell. Taemin will probably just laugh at him for his overactive imagination.

“It’s nothing,” he says, and flails about to get under the covers. “This house is just creepy at night, that’s all.”

“Really?” says Taemin. Kibum can’t see him, but he _knows_ Taemin is blinking with surprise in the darkness. “I’ve never thought so.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not scared of anything,” mutters Kibum resentfully. He tightens his fingers in Taemin’s nightshirt. Taemin will protect him from whatever the hell is wrong with his mind.

Taemin chuckles and rubs his hand on Kibum’s back. “Don’t worry, hyung,” he whispers into Kibum’s ear, making him shiver. “I’ll protect you from the big, bad, scary spiders.”

“Don’t call me ‘hyung’, we’re married, it’s weird,” says Kibum, the words automatic after years of arguing about it. Old habits die hard. “And you’re more scared of spiders than I am.”

Taemin snorts. “And Seoyeon’s not scared of them at all,” he muses. “Isn’t that a little weird for a kid?”

“Seoyeon’s a weird kid,” says Kibum. He pushes his face into Taemin’s armpit; he doesn’t want to think about his daughter right now. “We should go to sleep.”

“Mm,” Taemin says and rolls over, away from Kibum. “Good night, yeobo.”

Kibum presses his nose to the back of his husband’s neck. Taemin starts with surprise at the contact.

“Good night, my love,” Kibum murmurs, and tries to fall asleep.

~~~

**Tuesday**

Seoyeon hums to herself as she arranges her stuffed animals around a small table in her room.

Daddy grumbles about her playing in her bedroom, probably because it gets messy and then he has to clean it _and_ the playroom. Seoyeon doesn’t pay any attention to Daddy’s grumbling or yelling. He does both an awful lot. It’s only when he gets quiet and stern that she knows she’s in serious trouble.

“Now, Mr. Velociraptor,” she says, pronouncing the syllables with extra care, just like her uncle Jonghyun taught her. “You will sit next to Mr. Chicken and it will be a _date_.”

She giggles at the thought. Some of her friends’ parents go out on _dates_ sometimes. She’d asked Daddy what a date was, and he’d told her it was a special night going to restaurants or movies with the person you love. That had sounded fun. Seoyeon had begun pretending some of her toys go out on dates.

Thus, Mr. Velociraptor and her new Mr. Chicken. Seoyeon had found Mr. Chicken yesterday under her bed and promptly decided that he and Mr. Velociraptor should go on dates together. They’d make pretty babies, all toothy and feathery, because if you love someone you make babies together. Dad had told her so, and then Daddy yelled at him and it was funny.

Seoyeon knows she’s different though. Both Dad and Daddy have told her that. They didn’t make her together; Daddy made her special somehow.

Seoyeon smiles and pretends Mr. Chicken and Mr. Velociraptor are sharing a cup of tea. She likes being Daddy’s special girl.

“Seoyeon-ah! Dinner’s ready!”

Seoyeon heaves a big, dramatic sigh at the loud call from downstairs. Her stuffed animals will have to finish their tea party date later.

Maybe Mr. Chicken and Mr. Velociraptor will even _kiss_ while she’s gone, just like Dad and Daddy used to sometimes when they thought Seoyeon wasn’t looking. She hasn’t caught them for a while, though. Maybe they got better at hiding their mushiness.

“Coming, Daddy!” Seoyeon calls cheerfully. She skips out of her room and down the hall. Maybe Dad will come out of his office and eat dinner with them tonight!

Halfway there, she notices one of her socks is slipping off. She sits down in the hall and fixes it. It would be bad if she tripped down the stairs and hurt herself because her socks aren’t right

“Seoyeon! Dinner!”

“I’m _coming_ ,” she yells again. She rolls her eyes. Grown-ups are so impatient! She gets to her feet again, sock crisis averted, and trots the rest of the way down the hall.

As she passes the closet by the top of the stairs, a voice whispers: “Don’t go down there, princess. I heard it calling, too.”

Seoyeon freezes. She knows that voice.

“...Daddy?”

The closet doors swing slowly open. Daddy steps out, finger pressed to his lips to signal for quiet.

A voice just like Daddy’s calls from downstairs: “Seoyeon-ah! The food’s getting cold!”

Seoyeon squeezes her eyes shut, mindless with panic, and _screams_.

Only a moment later, she hears footsteps pound up the stairs. Daddy bellows anxiously for her, demanding to know what’s wrong. Seoyeon doesn’t stop screaming until she feels someone warm and strong scoop her up into their arms and hold her tight.

She opens her eyes and sees Daddy hugging her.

There is no one else around.

“I thought,” she says, crying hysterically into Daddy’s shoulder. “I thought I-I, I thought I saw-”

“What did you see?” murmurs Daddy gently, stroking her hair. “C’mon, princess, tell me.”

Seoyeon cries harder at the nickname. “I thought I saw _you_!” she wails. “You said not to go downstairs, but then you called from downstairs and it was _scary_!”

Daddy goes weirdly still for a moment. Then he goes back to running his fingers through her tangles, fixing her hair the way only he knows how.

“Shhh, it was only your imagination,” he says firmly. “There’s only one of me, and I’m right here, okay?”

Seoyeon shivers unhappily. She realizes her eyes were closed for a really long time. What if this is the Daddy from the closet and her real Daddy is downstairs still? Or what if the closet Daddy is the real one and _this_ one is something else?

She starts crying again, not knowing what to do. She tries to shove Daddy away. What if he’s the _wrong_ one?

“Seoyeon?” Daddy’s voice rises. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“How do I know you’re _real_?” she demands, and cries harder.

“Oh, honey,” Daddy breathes softly. There’s a little quiver in his voice like he’s scared too, except that’s not right because Daddy is _never_ scared.

Then:

“Taemin?” Daddy calls loudly, directing his voice down the stairs to where Dad’s office is. Daddy only uses Dad’s real name when there’s an emergency or when he thinks Seoyeon isn’t around. “Taemin, can you come here a sec?”

Seoyeon backs up a few steps when she hears Dad’s voice yell a response. A moment later, there are lighter, nearly inaudible footsteps on the stairs. Dad never makes any noise when he walks. Daddy says it’s because he used to be a dancer.

And then he’s there, the one parent she knows for _sure_ is real, standing baffled on the top step.

“ _Dad_!” Seoyeon screeches and launches herself at him. She clings to his legs and sobs.

“Seoyeon?” Dad says, startled. He bends down to hold her close. “Seoyeon, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“She thinks she saw two of me,” says Daddy. “Or, well, saw one and heard another downstairs.”

“What?” says Dad, like he’s confused. “ _Two_...?”

“She isn’t sure I’m real and not some kind of, I dunno, ghost or something,” says Daddy. “Can you reassure her I’m me?”

“What?” says Dad again. Then Seoyeon feels him nod. “Oh. _Oh_. Yeah, sure. Seoyeon...Seoyeon, look at me.”

She unburies herself from his chest and looks up, sniffling. Dad smiles at her, the special gentle smile he uses only for her.

“Our Kibum’s real, all right?” he says, voice warm and firm. “I promise you, Seoyeon. Would I lie to you?”

She shakes her head, lips quivering. She _wants_ to believe him, but...

“I love your father very much,” Dad continues. He gazes earnestly at her. “When people love each other that much, they can recognize them all the time, even in the _best_ Halloween costumes. And the very pretty man right behind you is your father, all right? I _promise_.”

Despite herself, Seoyeon gives a little watery giggle. Daddy is the only man ever whom Dad calls pretty and it always makes Daddy look so pleased. Dad, on the other hand, doesn’t like it so much when Daddy returns the favour.

“See?” says Dad. He ruffles the hair that Daddy just fixed. “Always trust your smart Dad, huh?”

Seoyeon’s giggles grow more solid. “Mm-hm.”

“Good,” says Dad firmly. “Now, why don’t you go give your father a big hug for me?”

Seoyeon turns around to find Daddy still crouching there, looking at her, smiling. Her heart flutters, _thump thump thump_.

She steps forward and stretches her arms out.

~~~

Kibum finds himself jumping at small noises for the rest of the evening.

He’s not the only one on edge. Seoyeon keeps sneaking him little looks of fright every so often, which just _breaks_ his heart. Taemin seems unaffected, but then, Taemin has always been a particularly infuriating variety of oblivious.

At eight, when Kibum tries to get Seoyeon ready for bed, she shrinks from him and begs for Taemin to help her instead. Kibum tries to persuade her that all is well. His persuasions are half-hearted at best.

He doesn’t want to encounter the Seoyeon under the bed again like he did last night.

So in the end, he fetches Taemin from his office and tells him Seoyeon wants _him_ to go through her bedtime rituals with her. Taemin blinks with surprised annoyance at first. Then the pleasure of Seoyeon asking anything of him rather than Kibum for once gets to him. He eagerly heads off to help his daughter.

Kibum curls up on the living room sofa, all unnecessary lights turned on, and watches reruns of _Desperate Housewives_. He tries not to think about ghosts. Damn Taemin’s stupid horror movie collection, anyway, staring evilly at him from the bookcase with their DVDs.

Damn the refrigerator, too, for making terrifying, stuttering noises like a low-voiced menacing rap. The noise slides under his skin like broken shards of glass.

He gives up any attempt at pretending he isn’t freaking out three hours later and makes haste to bed. That winds up not working either. Did the bathroom always creak and whisper this much? Even listening to his iPod with headphones on doesn’t help. The stupid thing seems determined to play all their old band’s creepiest songs, no matter what playlist Kibum selects.

If Kibum has to listen to the dark beat of Evil’s lyrics one more time, he’s going to figure out a way to go back in time and _unwrite_ the damn song.

And he can still hear the refrigerator, even way up here and with his music blaring in his ears.

Thus, he’s still awake at two in the morning when Taemin slides in next to him

“Hyung?” says Taemin, blinking startled down at him. “You’re still awake?”

Kibum doesn’t even bother to go through his usual retort at the ‘hyung’. Instead, he just winds himself about his husband like a terrified, clingy octopus. His legs tangle like tentacles between Taemin’s thighs.

“Er,” says Taemin, and hesitantly rubs Kibum’s hip. “Are you all right?”

“No,” says Kibum, muffled into the crook of Taemin’s neck. “I’m not. You know how Seoyeon said she met two of me earlier?”

“Um, yeah?”

Kibum shivers violently. He digs his fingernails into Taemin’s skin. “I saw two of her last night.”

“You saw- wait, _what_?”

“I saw _two_ of her,” Kibum says, and finds himself near tears. He blinks them away, furious. He’s not _six_. “She asked me to look under the bed for monsters. So I looked. And there was _another Seoyeon_ under there! I told her I didn’t see anything because I didn’t want to scare her. But _fuck_ , Taemin, there _was_ someone there, I saw it!”

Taemin is silent for a long moment while Kibum clutches him. He hasn’t seen two of Taemin. He knows _Taemin_ is real.

“...are you sure you’re not just imagining things, too?” Taemin says finally.

Kibum growls, irritated.

“No, I’m _serious_!” Taemin insists. “Maybe you’re spending too much time alone here. It’s doing things to your brain.”

Kibum, despite the panicky urge to cling to Taemin forever for comfort, huffs with annoyance and lets go. He rolls over and glares at the opposite wall.

“We’re _not_ getting into that again.”

“I’m just _saying_. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with _you_. You could get any kind of job to occupy your time! We can hire someone to babysit Seoyeon if we need to-”

“ _No_.”

Kibum’s answer is sharp, final. He hears Taemin heave a sigh and punch a pillow, adjusting it with unnecessary force. Kibum closes his eyes and breathes. He’s being unreasonable and unfair to Taemin. He _knows_ this.

“I’m sorry, yeobo,” Kibum whispers eventually. He rolls back over and squeezes Taemin’s arm. “I just-”

“I know, I know,” says Taemin, exasperated. “The accident did things to your head, I get it.” His voice is bitter. Kibum flinches. “Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” says Kibum, voice soft, subdued. He closes his eyes.

He has a hard time sleeping, though.

(And not just because the refrigerator is so damn _loud_.)

~~~

**Wednesday**

Seoyeon comes home from school the next day to find her uncle Jonghyun lounging on the living room sofa.

She immediately squeals and runs straight at him. He laughs, rolls off the sofa just in time, and swings her up in the air.

“Wow, look at you!” he exclaims, setting her down on his knee. “I think you’ve gotten even bigger since the last time I saw you. Have you had a birthday?”

Seoyeon rolls her eyes and punches him in the arm like Dad does sometimes. Jonghyun yelps.

“Don’t be silly,” she says. “You _know_ when my birthday is.”

Jonghyun pouts at her, rubbing his arm where she hit him. “You gave me a boo-boo, squirt,” he says. “I need you to kiss it better, or I won’t be able to pick you up again!”

Seoyeon’s eyes widen, because that’s _important_. She squirms over and plants a kiss on Jonghyun’s bicep.

“Better?” she asks hopefully, looking at him. When he nods, she beams and scrambles off his lap. “C’mon! Can we make cookies?”

“If your daddy says we can,” says Jonghyun. He cups his hands over his mouth. “Yo, Daddy? Cookie time?”

Daddy hollers back from the kitchen. “What, _now_? Seoyeon’ll ruin her appetite!”

Seoyeon pouts. Jonghyun offers her a conspiratorial wink. He yells back:

“How about we make them now and eat them later? After dinner, maybe?”

“Will you be here that long?” Daddy sounds surprised. Seoyeon doesn’t know why.

“I can stick around,” Jonghyun calls back nonchalantly. He grins down at Seoyeon and stands up. “Ready to make the case for cookies?”

She nods frantically and reaches up to clutch his hand and drag him towards the door. As she does so, she spots a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye, near the opposite end of the room from where the kitchen is attached.

Seoyeon blinks.

Daddy is standing there.

Smiling at her.

“Seoyeon-ah?” Jonghyun’s voice. She jumps and looks back up at him. “What is it, sweetie?”

She turns her head back to the other end of the room. Nothing is there. The wind blows softly over her skin through the closed windows, hot and smelling faintly of rubber.

Seoyeon shivers.

“Let’s go,” she says quickly and practically _runs_ to the kitchen.

~~~

Half of Kibum is intensely grateful that Taemin has somehow convinced Jonghyun to spend the afternoon and evening with him and Seoyeon, even though he _knows_ Jonghyun needs to be at work with Taemin to practice for his latest comeback. The other half of him wishes Jonghyun were elsewhere, or at least that he wouldn’t be quite so _observant_.

“You two sure are twitchy today,” murmurs Jonghyun as Seoyeon vanishes off to her playroom. She wants to show her ‘uncle’ her newest dinosaur figures. “What’s up with that?” He gives Kibum a sympathetic smile. “You having a bad spell again?”

Kibum huffs and places more brightly colored cookie cutters into the dishwasher.

“I’m _fine_.”

“Taemin seemed a little worried.” Jonghyun’s words are cautious.

Kibum sighs. There’s no way he can tell Jonghyun what must sound ridiculous- that he’s been seeing his daughter out of the corner of his eye all day, lurking in closets, under the table, in the washing machine. Twice Kibum had called her school just to make sure she was still there.

Which she was, of course.

Even though Kibum had been staring at her sleeping form on the living room couch the entire time he’d been on the phone.

But he can’t confess to Jonghyun that he’s become terrified of his own house and his own child. Even Taemin didn’t take him seriously; why on earth should Jonghyun?

A hand on his shoulder makes him flinch and yelp, wildly certain he’s about to be murdered by his own imagination. But no, it’s just Jonghyun.

“I’m there for you if you need me,” says Jonghyun earnestly, eyes wide. “You know that, right?”

“It’s been years, hyung. Stop worrying,” says Kibum. He grabs another handful of cookie cutters. Did Taemin buy a new set recently? Kibum can’t remember seeing these soccer-themed ones before.

“Just because you weren’t the one with broken legs doesn’t mean- what? What is it?”

Kibum frowns at Jonghyun. What is it? It’s Seoyeon, of course, standing in the kitchen doorway, holding out an armful of toy dinosaurs.

“Daddy, Uncle Jonghyun! Look at these!”

Jonghyun turns around to stare at the doorway. “Kibum? What are you looking at? Did I spill something on the sofa?”

Kibum stares at his daughter, who tilts her head inquiringly back. Jonghyun continues to look confused.

“Kibum?”

Kibum forces himself to look back at Jonghyun, who puts a worried hand on Kibum’s arm.

“You look pale. Are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

“It’s nothing,” says Kibum, voice cracking.

“Daddy, Uncle Jonghyun! Look at these!”

Both Kibum and Jonghyun swivel to face the doorway this time. Another Seoyeon comes running up, arms full of toy dinosaurs. This Seoyeon runs _right through_ the first Seoyeon, passing through her like a ghost.

The first Seoyeon stares up at Kibum with wide, terrified eyes and wobbling lips like she’s about to cry.

Then she turns and runs away.

Kibum bends over the sink and grips the edge of the counter, hard. Jonghyun and the second Seoyeon strike up an energetic conversation about how tall Seoyeon’s newest stuffed brachiosaurus is.

Seoyeon mostly likes the carnivorous dinosaurs. Kibum has never bought her a brachiosaurus.

~~~

Seoyeon is sad when Dad comes home because it means Dad and Jonghyun have to spend time in Dad’s office and do _work_. Seoyeon misses the end of her fun time with Jonghyun enough to go curl up with Daddy on her parents’ own bed.

Daddy gives her a weird look when she comes in. Seoyeon takes a deep breath, tells herself that not just Dad but _Jonghyun_ would have noticed if Daddy weren’t Daddy, and runs up to him.

Daddy helps her onto the bed and sets the book he’s reading aside.

“Hey, princess,” Daddy says, and lets her cuddle up next to him. “What’s up?”

She buries her face in his side. He smells like soap and fresh laundry and cookies and _Daddy_.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” she asks. “I’m scared of my room.”

She has a good reason to be scared of her room. Daddy keeps coming in to say hi and smile at her, when she _knows_ Daddy is downstairs on the phone with the people who do the garden.

“I think I’m scared of your room, too,” mutters Daddy, which makes no sense. He hugs her tight. “Sure, you can sleep here if you want.”

She eyes him nervously. “Dad won’t mind?”

“Nah,” says Daddy. He smiles at her. Seoyeon looks away. “He always comes to bed really late, anyway. You should be asleep by then.”

Seoyeon sighs and stretches out on her side. Oddly, Daddy doesn’t go tell her to put on pajamas or brush her teeth or anything.

The air conditioner lifts into a sweet, singing hum.

“Tell me a story,” Seoyeon says finally, when the silence between them becomes a little creepy.

“A story?” Daddy sounds unnerved. He forces a chuckle. “What kind of story?”

“I dunno.” She yawns and kicks her feet about. “Tell me a story about Uncle Jonghyun. Did he _really_ fight alligators when he was a kid like me?”

“Did he _what_?” Daddy laughs, a real, loud, startled laugh. Seoyeon can’t help but grin at that laugh. “Of course not. Don’t take everything he says seriously, kiddo.”

“Then where did that scar on his arm come from?” Seoyeon asks, honestly curious. “If it wasn’t alligators?”

Daddy goes quiet for a moment. Then he sighs. “You know, I didn’t meet Jonghyun-hyung until we were teenagers. Maybe he really _did_ wrestle an alligator when he was six.”

“Dad _dy_ ,” protests Seoyeon. She can _totally_ tell when Daddy is avoiding the question. He does it to Dad all the time.

Daddy sighs again. “It was the accident, princess.”

“Oh. The one you and Dad were in?”

“Yes, sweetheart, the one Dad and I were in.”

He sounds sad, but then he always does when talking about the Accident. Seoyeon gives it capital letters in her mind because it’s important. It’s so important that neither Dad nor Daddy or apparently even Jonghyun ever talk about it much. All Seoyeon really knows is that it made it so Dad can’t dance anymore, and gives Daddy really bad nightmares and made two of Dad, Daddy and Jonghyun’s best friends go away forever.

And it also gave Jonghyun a scar. Scars are cool. Seoyeon kind of wants one.

She tugs at Daddy’s shirt. “Do you have any scars?”

“Not really,” says Daddy, and tickles her. She yelps because that’s _unfair_ , then forgets about the conversation as they play-wrestle in the bed.

Daddy wins, of course. One of these days she’s gonna _beat_ him, though.

“You almost got me that time,” says Daddy when they’ve tired themselves out. Seoyeon rolls her eyes and prods him with a foot.

“Uh huh,” she says, unconvinced. “Sure.”

He chuckles quietly and they lie there, contented. Seoyeon yawns. Her school clothes are itchy. Maybe she should go put on pajamas. She sits up.

Daddy is standing in the doorway, smiling at her.

Seoyeon shrieks. The Daddy in the bed shoots upright.

“Seoyeon-ah? What is it?”

She stares at him. Then she looks back to the doorway. The other Daddy waves, still smiling.

“I don’t like it here,” Seoyeon says, and breaks down into tears.

~~~

Kibum is pissed by the time Taemin finally, _finally_ gets his ass to bed. It’s fucking three in the morning and Kibum has been too terrified to fall asleep, convinced every creak, thud and hum from the darkened house is out to get him.

Seoyeon, fortunately, had cried herself to sleep long since.

“Where have you been?” Kibum hisses as Taemin climbs into bed.

Taemin pauses, blinks at him. “Um. Working? Jonghyun-hyung just left,” he adds, apologetically. “If I’d known you were still awake, I’d have sent him up to say good-bye.”

Kibum breathes in and out. “If you hadn’t convinced him to skive off work today to babysit me, the two of you could have gotten everything done in the studio,” he says sharply. “Then you could’ve-” and chokes himself off, because Taemin could have _what_? Sat here with him and petted his hair like he was six years old and scared of his own shadow?

Taemin frowns. “His comeback will be fine,” he says. “The cover song we wrote is recording really well.”

“It’s not _him_ I’m worried about,” says Kibum. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Ugh. Sorry, yeobo. I’m just...not doing well.”

Taemin goes quiet for a moment before scooting over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Kibum sighs and relaxes against him. He feels vaguely guilty for using that old excuse to incur Taemin’s sympathy- or whatever amount of sympathy Taemin currently can get over himself enough to give- when it’s not really the problem.

But Taemin has already proven that he won’t take Kibum seriously about what’s really happening. To be honest, Kibum can’t really blame him. He’s not sure _he_ would take it seriously if Taemin came to him with weird ghost stories about their daughter.

Their daughter.

Kibum smiles affectionately down at her where she’s sandwiched between them, fast asleep with her thumb in her mouth. She’s cute. A deep wash of affection floods through him, safe in his well-lit bedroom with his husband and their sleeping daughter. There are still times, here and there, when he misses his old life as part of the band…but those times are few and far between by now. He has Taemin and Seoyeon. He’s content.

All is well.

For the first time in the past few days, Kibum finds himself unwinding from the constant state of nerves that’s been afflicting him.

He shifts his gaze to look back at Taemin.

As he does, he sees Seoyeon standing in the doorway, tears rolling down her face, arms extended.

“Taemin,” Kibum breathes softly. He stares transfixed with terror at the doorway. “Look up.”

“Hmm?” says Taemin, and raises his head. “What do you want me to look at?”

“The _doorway_ ,” says Kibum, with quiet, suppressed hysteria. “Look at the _doorway_ , Taemin-ah.”

Taemin looks. Shakes his head. “I don’t see anything,” he says.

“Daddy,” cries the Seoyeon from the doorway. “Daddy, help me, Daddy...there’s someone on your bed. It wants me to go away.”

“Yeobo?” This is Taemin, grasping Kibum’s chin gently in his hands and turning him around to face his husband. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Kibum jerks his face away. He looks at the doorway again. Seoyeon is still standing there, still sobbing.

He looks down. She is sleeping peacefully in the bed.

Kibum gives a little scream and clings to Taemin, breaking down into tears of his own.

“Get me out,” he begs, all hysteria breaking loose. “Get me out, get me out, get me out...”

Taemin holds him close. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re not in a car...”

“You don’t _understand_!” wails Kibum, with no longer a thought for waking Seoyeon. She might already _be_ awake. “I can _see things that shouldn’t be there_!”

Like his daughter.

If it _is_ his daughter.

If _which one_ is his daughter?

“Shh,” says Taemin. He squirms out of Kibum’s tight grip. “Sh, no, don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m going to get your pills, all right?”

“No,” says Kibum, because while the pills have helped him immensely in the past when he’d been having issues in the wee hours of the fucking morning, they were _completely different issues._ “No, no, no, I don’t want to.”

“Are you sure?” asks Taemin. He fishes the bottle from out of their nightstand drawer and crawls back over to Kibum. “They’ve helped you before, haven’t they?”

“I don’t _want_ them,” Kibum yells. He clutches Taemin’s wrist, hard. What if whichever of the Seoyeons is the wrong one _does something_ to him while he’s drugged out of his mind?

“Daddy?”

Kibum and Taemin both freeze and look down at the Seoyeon in the bed. She wakes, yawns and rubs her eyes.

“Daddy, what is it? Why are you yelling?”

Kibum jerks his head up to stare in terror at the Seoyeon in the doorway. That Seoyeon lowers her arms, still silently weeping and gives Kibum an equally terrified look of betrayed appeal.

“Daddy? Daddy? Dad, what’s wrong with Daddy?”

“He’s having a nightmare,” says Taemin immediately, all practiced polish. “Can you leave us for a bit, Seoy-”

“ _No_!” she yells, with volume to rival Kibum’s own. “It’s scary out there!”

Kibum reels, trying desperately to get a grip. He’s had his eye on the Seoyeon in the bed since she came in several hours ago. He must be imagining the other one, right?

Right?

What if he’s imagining _this_ one?

He grabs the bottle of pills out of Taemin’s hand. It’s probably not the _best_ idea to take these in the middle of a panic attack with some kind of supernatural monster lurking about, but Kibum just doesn’t want to be conscious anymore.

Anything to escape this hell.

~~~

**Thursday**

Daddy is still asleep the next morning, like he always is whenever he has a really bad nightmare. So it’s Dad who gets Seoyeon ready for school, helping her get dressed and making her breakfast. Normally, Seoyeon hates these days because Dad doesn’t know _anything_ about how to tie her shoes or brush her hair or make breakfast properly.

Today, she’s relieved. After Daddy reached out and almost grabbed her in the stairway this morning even though he’s still asleep in his and Dad’s bed, Seoyeon’s all too pleased to focus on her other parent instead.

Dad may be a bit weird and clueless and always at work, but at least there’s only one of him.

Well, there’s really only one of Daddy, too.

“All right,” says Dad when it’s finally time to go outside and wait for the bus. “Have you got everything ready?”

Seoyeon thinks for a moment, resenting the question. _Daddy_ always knows if she’s forgotten something.

“My hair bow!” she exclaims suddenly. “Can I go get it, Dad?”

He smiles and nods. “Run quick, okay? I don’t want you to miss the bus.”

Seoyeon nods and scampers quickly up the stairs. She grabs her hair bow from the bathroom and then hesitates. Maybe she should check on Daddy...? He’s probably still sleeping and Seoyeon really, really doesn’t want to see the _other_ him, but Daddy sounded really bad last night. She should make sure he’s still okay.

Nodding determinedly to herself, she trots down the hall and past the doorway into her parents’ bedroom. She can’t see Daddy from this angle, so she walks in farther.

“Seoyeon-ah? Aren’t you late for your bus?”

Seoyeon wheels around to see Daddy standing in the doorway that leads to his and Dad’s walk-in closet. He blinks at her, sleepy and hair mussed.

“No,” says Seoyeon. “I-I just wanted t-to make sure you’re okay.”

Her heart is thumping in her chest. She can feel it- beat, beat, _beat._

“I’m fine, as you can see,” says Daddy. He smiles and makes a shooing motion with his hands. “Go off to school, kiddo. Taemin’s probably worried out of his mind with you dallying about up here.”

Seoyeon frowns. There’s something weird about that sentence.

“Give me a hug first, though?” says Daddy. He bends down and stretches his arms out.

Seoyeon takes a step forward.

Daddy smiles at her.

Seoyeon lifts up her arms to embrace him.

The bed emits a loud and utterly familiar snore.

“ _Daaad_!” Seoyeon screams at the top of her lungs, arms falling back to her side. She pelts out of the room and down the stairs, kicking a stray soccer ball aside as she darts through the front hall.

Once she’s out the door, she clings to the safety of Dad’s legs and sobs. He blinks down at her in surprise.

“I don’t like this house,” Seoyeon cries into his knees. “I don’t like it, I don’t like it at _all_.”

“Seoyeon…” says Dad helplessly. He crouches down to stroke her hair in an attempt to make things better.

It doesn’t help. _Nothing_ can make this better.

When the bus comes, Seoyeon allows herself to be loaded onto it and helped to her seat, wrenching sobs still wracking her small frame. She huddles in her seat, whimpering helplessly, as the bus pulls away. She can’t even bring herself to look out the window to where the lonely retreating form of Dad is waving her good-bye from the empty expanse of their big lawn.

Seoyeon misses Daddy.

~~~

Kibum wakes to find a pink Post-It note stuck to his face and covered with Taemin’s messy scrawl. He peels the note off, smiling a little at the bright color. It reads: _got Seoyeon off to school, left for work. call me when you wake up? ^^ ~ur angel_

It’s cute, but Kibum doesn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. His head feels muzzy from the aftereffects of the pills. He hates taking them. He hates getting bad enough to take them.

Of course, that wasn’t really the problem this time, was it?

He sticks the note to his dresser and wanders downstairs without bothering to change out of his green kitty pajamas. There are the remains of quite a few dirty dishes in the sink, probably from Taemin’s attempts to cook himself and Seoyeon breakfast. Kibum snorts. Taemin’s lucky he married someone who actually has skill in the kitchen. If it wasn’t for Kibum, Taemin would probably still be eating ramyeon with milk and honey.

Kibum hums to himself as he does the dishes by hand. He could use the dishwasher, of course, but this is soothing. Housework is soothing. It’s so _normal_. And the day is bright and clear and sunny through the windows, the songbirds chirping. Kibum even spots a fluffy, awkward rabbit hop across the lawn and nearly trip on its own face.

After he’s done with the dishes, he does the laundry, even the giant stack of designer clothing washable only by hand that he’s been putting off for ages. Then he realizes he’s forgotten to call Taemin. He does so only for his husband, of course, to not pick up the phone. Kibum leaves a voicemail, complete with embarrassing aegyo and the sound of a smacking good-bye kiss. That’ll teach Taemin to ask him to call and then not even answer the damn phone.

Kibum’s aware he’s being mildly immature, but hey. It’s turning out to be a good day, free of any extra daughters running around.

He puts the phone down and turns around.

There’s a Seoyeon standing there.

Kibum screams. Of fucking _course_.

“Daddy?” says Seoyeon, with a quivering voice. “Can you help me?”

Kibum hates himself. Why did he even have to _think_ about this horror show of extra offspring? Speak of the devil and there it appears.

Then he takes a deep breath. Reminds himself that Seoyeon is _at school_. Taemin’s little morning note wouldn’t lie to him.

If Taemin was the one who wrote it.

He’s not going to think about that.

“You’re not real,” Kibum tells the Seoyeon standing in front of him. “You’re not real. You’re _not_.”

Her eyes widen and she takes a step forward. Kibum staggers back.

“Daddy, don’t you love me?” she asks, shivering a little. “You haven’t talked to me in for _ev_ er. Only to the other one.”

“You’re not _real_ ,” says Kibum again, voice rising. “Go away. My daughter is at _school_.”

“The thing is at school,” says Seoyeon, eyes wide and hurt. “I’m here, Daddy. Don’t you love me?”

“No,” says Kibum, determined to get over this, once and for all. “No, I don’t, because _you’re not real._ ”

Seoyeon starts to cry. It hurts Kibum’s heart, but he forces himself to remain still. This is not his daughter. This is _not_ his daughter.

...is it?

He takes a step forward, hesitantly reaching out.

Seoyeon scrambles backwards.

“Don’t touch me!” she screeches. Kibum freezes. “Get away from me! You don’t love me, you _don’t_ , you only love the _thing_. Daddy, you hurt me, you _hurt_ me!”

Then she lunges at him, fingers outstretched like claws.

Kibum shrieks and flails backwards. His back hits the wall, hard, and he lets out a low _oomph_. He’s forced to duck, still shrieking, a mere second later at a second slash of clawed fingers. He hears Seoyeon’s nails scrape at something behind him and a strip of wallpaper flutters to the ground.

Seoyeon leans in.

Kibum cries out and stares at her, their faces only inches apart. Tears drip down his daughter’s cheeks. The tears smell like fire.

Kibum can’t breathe.

“Daddy,” Seoyeon whispers, lips wobbling. “Why don’t you love me the best? You _hurt_ me.”

Then she puts her small hands around Kibum’s throat and begins to squeeze.

Kibum screams.

He shoves Seoyeon away with as much force as he can muster. She lands on the ground with a thud. She shakes herself, then crouches on the ground and snarls like a cat about to pounce. Her nails have left deep scratches on Kibum’s throat.

Kibum panics.

He needs to be away from here, needs to be far away _now_. And he doesn’t have a car. He can’t even bring himself to ride in one half the time, let alone _drive_ one, not since the accident. And there’s no neighbor near enough, in their isolated country home...

So he runs.

He runs so _hard_.

Seoyeon follows him, silent save for occasional hitched sobs and crashes when she bangs into pieces of furniture. Kibum sprints hysterically through the house, panting for breath between terrified shrieks. The scratches on his neck burn with a painful intensity, like they’ve been carved by falling shattered glass instead of a six-year-old’s soft nails.

Kibum finally, _finally_ makes it to the upstairs bathroom.

He darts in, spins around and locks the door before Seoyeon can get in. Then, to the sound of her fists banging at the wood, he makes a quick search of the bathroom, hoping desperately there isn’t another one of her lurking about behind the shower curtain.

But no, he’s completely alone.

With a monster beating down the door.

He takes a deep breath, shuddering, and stares at said door.

Seoyeon is still mostly silent, save for her crying. The door bulges at the pound of her fists, groaning at the strength of the blows.

Kibum wishes he and Taemin had not bought a house in the countryside. He wishes the house were not so soundproof. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, in search of peace and quiet... but he would give anything, _anything_ to be able to scream right now and have the neighbors hear him.

Right now, probably the only thing that would hear him is that stupid clumsy rabbit.

The door begins to tremble on its hinges.

Kibum moans in fear as it rattles badly. He can feel his chest tightening in an incipient panic attack. Oh God, not here, not _now_...

Seoyeon’s cries gain words.

“ _Daddy, you hurt me! Daddy, don’t you love me? Daddy, you hurt me!”_

Kibum backs up until his hip hits the edge of the sink counter, hard. He winces, whimpering a little from the combination of the pain, the chanting from outside the door, and how hard it is to fucking _breathe_ all of a sudden.

He wants out. He needs out. He needs to be _out of here now_.

The cries become a wail.

_“DADDY, YOU HURT ME! DADDY, DON’T YOU LOVE ME? DADDY? DADDY?”_

Kibum feels tears roll down his cheeks as he realizes there _is_ no way out. He staggers forward, bending over as he panics, lungs constricting. He shakes. If there was any way out of this room, out of this situation, _anything_...

Seoyeon begins to scream.

“ _DADDY, DON’T YOU LOVE ME? DADDY, YOU HURT ME!”_

The door shudders, splinters flying off the straining middle.

Then Kibum spots it. There is a way out.

Somehow, he manages to stumble over and open the drawer that Seoyeon is _not_ allowed near. It contains his and Taemin’s shaving razors.

It’s the only way. The _only_ way.

He coaxes his legs forward and collapses in a heap in the bathtub. He extends his wrists, grips the razor. He can’t breathe.

_“DADDY, YOU HURT ME!”_

The door bangs open.

Kibum brings the sharp blade down, again and again and again.

Hot blood spurts everywhere.

~~~

Seoyeon hops off the bus, humming. It had been a good day at school and she feels ready to face the terrors of her house.

Well. _Almost_ ready.

To her surprise, Daddy is waiting outside for her already. He hadn’t been, the last few days. It’s reassuring to see him back to his usual routine.

“Hi, Daddy,” she says cautiously, walking up to him as he waves good-bye at the bus people.

“Hey, princess,” he says. He smiles down at her, warm and bright. “Wanna help me make dinner? I’ve got something fancy planned for tonight.”

Seoyeon squeals. The exciting idea of helping cook banishes her fears.

“Really? Is it for Dad?” Because the only time Daddy ever makes anything _really_ fancy is when he wants to impress Dad.

Daddy winks. “Of course it’s for Taemin,” he says, teasing. “I was thinking of doing a special meat dish...”

“Dad _loves_ meat,” Seoyeon informs him confidentially, in case he’s forgotten.

Daddy chuckles. “Oh, I know.”

Seoyeon follows him inside, dropping her backpack on the hall floor. She babbles on and on about her day. Daddy responds, conversing cheerfully back. Seoyeon finds herself smiling as Daddy begins pulling out thick, sharp knives in order to cut the meat with.

“I love you, Daddy,” she says contentedly.

He just laughs, tying an apron over his blue shirt. “Why? Is it the meat? You little carnivore, you.”

Seoyeon giggles. “T-rexes are _cool_. So are velociraptors and allosauruses and carnotauruses and...”

Daddy lets her go on and on, naming all the dinosaurs she’s painstakingly memorized. Eventually, Daddy begins asking her to do things to help with dinner, like find ingredients and put tofu into a pot and measure spices carefully into measuring spoons.

“That’s my little girl,” Daddy says proudly as she mixes a bowl of stuff together just like he’d taught her. “Chef Seoyeon!”

Seoyeon beams and mixes harder. It’s fun making things with Daddy. She’s learning all kinds of new things, like the fact that apparently Daddy can crack walnuts with his fingers.

Once all the food is prepared for now, Daddy ruffles her hair affectionately. Then he tells her to go put her backpack in her room so Dad doesn’t trip on it when he comes in. Seoyeon rolls her eyes at the inability of grown-ups to avoid tripping on things that are _really obviously there_ and trots off obediently to do so.

She hauls her backpack up to her room and dumps it on her bed. Then she decides she should surprise Daddy by remembering to wash her hands before dinner, even though she’s already washed them in order to cook with him. Doing it twice will make him _really_ proud.

Seoyeon heads off to the bathroom, humming merrily. Daddy will be so _pleased_ with her. So will Dad, because she helped make him a _special_ meat dinner!

As soon as she walks into the bathroom, though, she notices that it smells weird. Coppery and tangy, kinda like a nosebleed. She frowns at the sink and turns around.

Daddy is sitting in the bathtub.

Seoyeon almost, _almost_ screams. Then she reminds herself sternly that her real Daddy is downstairs- he _has_ to be- and this is just the fake, dressed in Daddy’s kitty pajamas from last night.

Maybe the fake is kinda like a toy? It certainly isn’t moving. Seoyeon creeps closer, mustering up all her bravery. She has to be like uncle Jonghyun, who did things like wrestle alligators when he was six.

She gets closer and closer. Finally, she swings one leg over the tub wall and reaches out to daringly poke the thing.

It falls over.

Seoyeon stifles a shriek and climbs the rest of the way into the bathtub. The scent of nosebleeds is stronger, which is weird because there’s no blood anywhere. There’s a lot of cuts and slashes on the wrists, though, edged with torn flaps of skin. The neck is also kinda scratched up.

Seoyeon crawls over to the unmoving thing and puts her hand on its chest, right above its heart.

There’s no heartbeat.

It’s _dead_.

She scrambles back as if stung.

Dead?

Could Daddy have killed the monster that looked like him and put it in the tub? That’s the best explanation she can think of. But if so, why hadn’t he _told_ her? Daddy wouldn’t have kept it a secret from her. And he wouldn’t have put an icky thing like a monster in the _bathtub_. Daddy’s very particular about keeping things clean.

No, Daddy wouldn’t have done this.

Unless…

Unless he isn’t Daddy.

Seoyeon remembers that Daddy called Dad ‘ _Taemin’_ earlier. He never does that. He messed up her hair, too, and he never does that, either. And why is he making a special dinner for Dad, anyway? He hasn’t done that in a _long_ time, except on important occasions.

There’s no important occasion today.

Seoyeon stares at the dead body in the bathtub. Could this... could this really be...

_Her_ Daddy? The _real_ one?

She really does scream this time. She flails out of the bathtub, sobbing. Her Daddy is _dead_. He’s _gone forever_. And the Daddy downstairs is the monster that killed him.

She can’t seem to stop screaming. And she can’t stand to be in here anymore.

Seoyeon races out of the bathroom, falling against walls and bruising herself in attempt to run away and find Dad so she can be _safe_ and cry and _warn_ him about the monster in the kitchen before it gets him too.

Unless it already has.

Dad was alone here, this morning…

“Seoyeon? Seoyeon, what is it?”

The monster. The monster is trying to _talk to her_.

“Don’t touch me!” she screeches as she sees him approach. She trips over the bottom stair and lands with a thud in the hallway. “Get away from me!”

Daddy freezes, staring at her with wide eyes. “Seoyeon, princess, what-”

“You’re not Daddy!” she sobs hysterically. She attempts to climb back to her feet and falls over again. “You’re a monster!”

“Oh, baby,” says Daddy. He sighs, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I _found_ my real Daddy!” Seoyeon yells. “In the bathtub! _Dead!_ ”

She begins to cry again.

Daddy says, gently: “Seoyeon-ah, that thing in the bathtub was the monster. I killed it for you, but I didn’t want to scare you by mentioning it.”

“Liar!” she shrieks. She scuttles back on her hands and knees. Daddy follows.

Seoyeon panics. In blind terror, she lunges to her feet and darts forward. She scrambles underneath Daddy’s legs and into the kitchen before he can stop her.

“Seoyeon...”

Too late, she realizes that the door to the living room is closed and _locked_ , like it never is. She’s trapped in the kitchen, with the monster slowly advancing on her.

She reaches up on her tiptoes and seizes one of the big meat knives on the counter.

“Stop there!” she orders and brandishes it in front of her.

Daddy goes still again, staring at her. “Seoyeon, sweetheart, it’s _me_. It’s your father.”

“No....” she moans, sobbing. “No, no, no...” She _knows_ it isn’t. She just _knows_.

Daddy abruptly lunges at her, hands outstretched in an attempt to wrest the knife away. Seoyeon screams with shrill, childish terror and ducks. She wildly thrusts the knife forward and up to defend herself from the encroaching monster.

The knife, incredibly, _sticks in something_.

Seoyeon’s eyes go wide as she looks up. There’s a thud as Daddy’s body hits the floor. The knife is stuck in his throat. There’s blood _everywhere_ , including all over her.

“...Daddy?” she whispers, trembling.

No reply. This Daddy is dead, too. Seoyeon killed him.

Except, the Daddy upstairs had no blood on him even though he was dead. Seoyeon had seen that there were cuts on him. What kind of thing got cut and didn’t bleed?

Not a human.

But this Daddy... _he_ had bled everywhere.

And this Daddy is wearing a blue shirt. Monsters _hate_ blue. They would never wear it.

Which means that _Seoyeon_ has killed Daddy.

_Her_ Daddy. The _real_ Daddy.

Like she’s a monster herself.

Seoyeon begins to weep.

Crying isn’t enough. Seoyeon has always been punished when she did something wrong, and what could be more wrong than _killing_ her beloved Daddy? Her most favourite person in the whole entire world?

Seoyeon remembers the quiet tales Dad and Daddy and uncle Jonghyun whisper sometimes about their two friends who died in the Accident and never came back. She knows how sad it is when someone dies.

She sniffles and wipes tears from her face. She will have to be a big girl and punish herself because Dad won’t do it properly. Dad never knows what punishment befits a crime. Sometimes he makes her stand in the corner when she hasn’t done _that_ much wrong and sometimes he doesn’t care when she does things that would make Daddy _really_ mad if he found out about them.

No, she has to do this herself. And she knows what the only punishment is for a crime this awful.

It’s the punishment she would give a monster.

Seoyeon goes up the stairs to her parents’ bedroom, small frame still shaking with sobs. She finds the bottle of pills sitting on the nightstand from where Daddy used them last night. The bottle is open, which is weird. Anytime she’s seen Daddy need the bottle, he’s screwed it tightly shut when he was done.

Her parents have always told her never to try the pills. She knows they’re dangerous if you take too many.

She takes the entire bottle, chewing some of them when she can’t swallow them. To help wash them down, she gulps water from the bathroom sink.

The bathroom with the monster’s dead body in it.

She goes downstairs to the kitchen, wobbling and throwing up a little on the stairs. She weaves her way over to her Daddy’s dead body and curls up next to him. He smells like what they were cooking- tofu and spices and chicken and burnt leather.

(…burnt leather?)

No time left to wonder. Seoyeon shuts her eyes.

She whispers, just before she goes to sleep: _I love you, Daddy..._

She never reawakens.

~~~

Taemin comes home that night and finds his daughter dead and bloody on the kitchen floor, and his husband dead and bloody in the bathtub with his wrists slit. There’s an open, empty bottle of sleeping pills on the bathroom sink counter. Quite a bit of the house furniture has fallen over, expensive decorative items lying smashed on the floor. A half-cooked meal of chicken, beef and tofu rests on the kitchen counter.

The police make their judgment. The facts are clear. Kibum must have killed his daughter and then killed himself in a fit of sudden rage. What else could possibly have happened?

Taemin sits and lets a quietly crying Jonghyun hold him as the police make their investigation. Taemin listens to the conclusions. They make sense, in light of the evidence.

Taemin’s own mind drifts. He remembers the baffling, aegyo-filled voicemail Kibum had left for him. Why _had_ Kibum called him, anyway? The voicemail had been so passive-aggressive, rambling something about a note. Maybe Taemin should have left him one that morning, to let him know he wasn’t really pissed about Kibum’s breakdown the night before.

It doesn’t matter. Just after that call, Kibum had gone and murdered their daughter and then committed suicide. Taemin will never hear Kibum or Seoyeon’s voices again.

He drifts further, unable to help wondering if it is his fault that Kibum was driven so far. If only he’d been home more, if only they hadn’t fought so often, if only he’d cared more about Kibum’s issues…

Would this have happened?

He doesn’t know.

But he thinks not.

Taemin goes home with Jonghyun that night, unable to stand the sight of his own house. There are familiar whispers in the walls of Jonghyun’s home. The night-time noises of the apartment are reminiscent of the haunting screech of skidding tires.

Taemin waits until Jonghyun is asleep, then goes into the bathroom to prepare things. Jonghyun must have left a radio on somewhere; Taemin can hear the faint strains of Lucifer’s rap lingering in the air.

Once he’s done, he drags in painful, shallow breaths and stares at his reflection in the mirror.

His reflection smiles back.

“You know it’s all your fault,” it says kindly, voice as soft as a rabbit’s fur. “If you had been kinder to him, he would never have done any of it.”

Taemin nods, breaths easing. Even his own reflection agrees that he failed as a husband and father.

He hangs himself from Jonghyun’s shower curtain rod, legs kicking and arms jerking before his neck finally snaps and ends his agony.

His reflection beams at the dangling corpse and steps out of the mirror.

Its footsteps echo with the sounds of breaking glass and the crack of snapping bone. An affectionate wind ruffles the reflection’s hair, warm like the heat of flames. The wind brings with it the lingering odors of scorched flesh and gasoline.

Together, eager and eternally breathless, the wind and the reflection wait.

Only one more left.

SHINee was never meant to be apart.

~~~

Alone in his room, Jonghyun wakes.

**Author's Note:**

> _Warnings: suicide (of adults and children), self-harm by cutting, character death (of adults and children), implied ptsd_


End file.
